


caught up in the darkness now

by novocaine_sea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, Rough Sex, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 11:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novocaine_sea/pseuds/novocaine_sea
Summary: Shirabu had been fantasizing about Ushijima for years. When tragedy unexpectedly strikes, Shirabu takes that as an open to make his move. He's bound to get hurt, but he won't know until he tries, and he's willing to do anything to get what he wants.





	caught up in the darkness now

**Author's Note:**

> This is so bad. This is probably the worst thing I've ever written. Please mind the tags. Happy New Year?

Tendou’s wake was the first time the team had been together since the third year’s graduation. It was kind of a low blow to have to come together under these circumstances, but everybody was living different lives making it difficult to meet up. Some still played volleyball for local teams and on the national scale. Some were finishing up their degree, others working in family businesses. Tendou himself had gone to work behind the scenes in television and he would’ve made a great producer someday.

But it was all cut short by a drunk driver in the middle of the night. 

Shirabu watched as they gathered in front of Tendou’s picture, flowers surrounding it and candles lit in vigil. It all felt very real in that moment and Goshiki bursting into tears beside him wasn’t helping. Shirabu was able to hold it together, not that he was feeling much sorrow in the first place. In fact, he felt kind of numb, almost like nothing. This wasn’t normal, not feeling a damn thing, especially when everybody around him was in tears or suppressing them the best they could. Even Kawanishi was tearing up at his side.

Shirabu looked across the room to find Ushijima staring solemnly at his lover’s photo. His face was stoic but his eyes were a bit wide, as if he were in shock. It was the same expression that he had worn the day they had lost to Karasuno all those years ago. It was safe to say that the ace of the national team was taking this loss the hardest but as always, he was the strongest person there.

Even after all these years, Shirabu admired Ushijima’s mental and physical strength. His respect for his senpai had grown stronger even though the two hadn’t kept in constant contact. Shirabu felt indebted to Ushijima and tried to uphold his legacy as a captain of Shiratorizawa after he graduated. Although Shirabu hadn’t led them to nationals either, he truly believed that he had made Ushijima proud in some way, shape, or form.

Shirabu held constant fantasies about Ushijima. It was hard not to when his presence was all around him, in the form of billboards and on TV and in magazines. Ushijima Wakatoshi was a household name. Lucky for Shirabu, Ushijima had been a household name for much longer than most people would think. It was no secret that Shirabu had gone to Shiratorizawa for Ushijima and romantic feelings emerged once he actually got to play alongside the ace.

The former setter would never let go of that feeling, even now, standing in front of the slowly buried casket of Tendou Satori. The lover of Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Shadows swelled in Shirabu’s stomach, slowly slithering through his organs and festering in his veins. It was an evil kind of feeling, one that was blocking Shirabu from the sadness that his peers were drowning in. He put on his best poker face and endured the rest of the wake, allowing Kawanishi to support himself with a hand on his shoulder as they hovered near the wall. Once the house began emptying, former classmates and distant relatives beginning to say their final goodbyes, Shirabu and Kawanishi approached Ushijima, who stared forlornly at the memories of Tendou set all around the room.

“Ushijima-san.” Kawanishi began, shoving his hands into his pockets. Shirabu glanced at him out the corner of his eye before focusing his gaze on Ushijima. The ace’s eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed; it was clear that he had been crying. Shirabu was unaware that Ushijima was capable of such an emotion because he was sort of robotic. Shirabu found it endearing but others may not have the same sentiment.

“Kawanishi. Shirabu.” Ushijima addressed them politely and they exchanged bows. Mostly everybody was gone now, only Tendou’s immediate family remaining along with the three of them.

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Kawanishi spoke for the two of them. He had an inkling that Shirabu wasn’t going to say a word; if he did, it may come out as disinterested. Kawanishi knew of Shirabu’s feelings towards their former captain and though it pained him to know that his own feelings would never be returned, he wanted his best friend to be happy. And to make good choices. Speaking to Ushijima right now would be a poor choice.

“Thank you.” Ushijima responded quietly.

“If you ever need anything,” Shirabu began, choosing his words carefully. Kawanishi stiffened beside him. “Let us know. We’d be happy to help.”

Ushijima only nodded and Shirabu swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. He knew that Ushijima would be extremely appreciative but his current state of mourning made him even more quiet than usual. He knew that he had to let this wave pass, a few months, maybe even close to a year. Shirabu had time. He would give Ushijima that window before moving in with his own plan.

And he had a plan. It had been in action since high school. Now that Tendou was (tragically) out of the picture, he could act on it. Shirabu was already aware that he was a terrible person and he didn’t need to be told twice. He had a total disregard for other people’s feelings in place of his own. In high school he would bluntly disrespect some of the upperclassmen (see: Semi Eita) because he knew that he was better than them. 

Shirabu wasn’t outwardly arrogant like Oikawa Tooru, but inwardly, and if somebody pissed him off. He thought of himself as a tsunami waiting to strike. When he did, it was devastating.

It was clear that Ushijima wasn’t in the mood to talk so the two of them bid him one last farewell and well wishes before leaving the Tendou household. The train ride back to their apartment was spent in reflection of the day’s event and future plans. Shirabu started concocting a time when it would appropriate to message Ushijima again and Kawanishi thought of ways to make sure that Shirabu didn’t get himself into trouble. The redhead had no idea when he had turned into his best friend’s keeper, but making sure he didn’t do anything insensitive was key.

However, the depths of Shirabu’s brain and the cogs working the bigger machine were much larger than anything Kawanishi had imagined. 

 

Months and seasons passed with snow blanketing the ground and cherry blossoms blooming. Shirabu was patient, putting his plans to back of his mind and allowing real life to take over. He sat at the desk of a boring office job at a publishing company, being yelled at by his boss day in and day out. It was tiring, especially biting back snarky remarks, but he somehow made it through. Once the day was over he was able to go back to his shared apartment with Kawanishi and lounge on the couch, watching shitty soaps and eating ramen from a carton.

“Hey.” Kawanishi greeted him with his head tilted over the back of the couch.

“You’re still here?” Shirabu asked as he did every night. The two of them didn’t exactly have social lives, but here’s to hoping.

Kawanishi chuckled and focused his gaze onto the television once more. He had his laptop hooked up to it, streaming some sort of movie. It looked like an anime adaption but Shirabu wasn’t familiar with anything outside of manga. “Haven’t moved since you left.”

“Disappointing.” Shirabu wandered into the kitchen after dumping his jacket onto the couch beside Kawanishi. He ignored the redhead’s eyes on him as he opened the fridge, searching for something to eat. There of course were leftovers and he figured it was good enough, heating it up in the microwave. He joined Kawanishi on the couch after securing a pair of chopsticks.

“How was work?”

“Mediocre as always.” Shirabu shoved noodles in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to explain anymore. Kawanishi leaned back, propping his feet on the coffee table and placing his hands behind his head. His hair was as unkempt as it was in high school and Shirabu figured he would never learn how to style it. Shirabu probably would’ve thought he was cute if he didn’t live with the human disaster.

“Nothing fun?”

“When has work ever been fun?”

Kawanishi hummed in response. The lights were off, Shirabu realized, the only light coming from the TV.

“What the hell is this?”

“Assassination Classroom. It sucks. The anime was much better.”

“The graphics are always terrible when there are actual people.”

Kawanishi laughed. “You like people better when they’re animated?”

Shirabu shrugged. “Less people to annoy me.” Kawanishi laughed again and Shirabu cracked a smile for him, not noticing how Kawanishi’s laugh faded a little when he did. Shirabu was completely oblivious as he pulled out his phone, hovering over Ushijima’s contact info. He had been toying with the idea of messaging Ushijima for a few weeks now but it never felt right. Was it too soon? It had been a little over six months since Tendou’s wake. Of course no wound that big could heal easily but…

Shirabu would have been over it by now. 

Everybody was different and Ushijima and Tendou had been together for years, but still. Shirabu figured that he had given Ushijima enough time to mourn and now he could start to move in.

“Do you think that Ushijima-san is okay?” Shirabu asked casually, glancing at Kawanishi to gauge his reaction. Of course Kawanishi rolled his eyes and lolled his head to look at him.

“Do you think he would be? Tendou has only been... you know, for a few months now. That’s not something he’s gonna just… get over?”

_ So? _ Shirabu couldn’t say that out loud. He knew that Kawanishi knew how he felt about Ushijima. It hadn’t been entirely obvious, but when you live with somebody from the moment you graduate high school, you start to pick up on things.

“I might ask him to get coffee or something.” 

“Kenjirou, come on.” Kawanishi muted the TV and turns so he was facing Shirabu. “Leave the guy alone. He’s mourning.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Rub Tendou-san’s death in his face?” Shirabu was immediately on the defensive.

Kawanishi tilted his head to the side with a deadpan expression. “You’re trying to fuck him.”

Shirabu scoffed and didn’t say a thing. Kawanishi rolled his eyes and stood, unhooking his laptop from the TV and closing it shut. 

“If you wanna ask him on a date, go ahead-”

“It wouldn’t be a date!”

“- _ but _ I want no part of this. Just know that karma’s going to bite you in the ass one day.” He turned on his heel and walked down the hall, his bedroom door shutting violently a few beats later. Shirabu was left staring after him in confusion until he finally pulled himself away. He had no idea where Kawanishi’s outburst had come from; it was extremely out of Kawanishi’s character to even raise his voice or get mad at something so menial. Shirabu hoped it would blow over but for now he had more pressing matters to tend to.

He typed out a message to Ushijima at least four times, reading it over before ultimately deleting the contents. He didn’t know whether to be upfront about wanting to go out with him or if he should ask how he had been. Shirabu already knew the answer; Ushijima was mostly still in a state of mourning, as Kawanishi suggested. Nobody had heard from him since the funeral so it was clear that he wasn’t in very good shape.

In the end, Shirabu sent a simple text asking how Ushijima was. His heart hammered in his chest when his phone vibrated with a response. Ushijima had only answered with a simple ‘fine’ and it should have pissed Shirabu off but it didn’t; in fact, Shirabu was just relieved he responded at all. He was going to continue with the small talk but knew it would barely get anywhere, so he ended up just asking if Ushijima wanted to get drinks with him.

Surprisingly, his former captain said yes and Shirabu’s nerves did backflips. He was finally going to go on a date with Ushijima.

Even if Ushijima wasn’t considering it a date.

 

The floor of Shirabu’s bedroom had turned into his closet as he stripped the hangers bare, flinging shirt after shirt onto the ground as he searched for the perfect one. What was too classy? What was too casual? He needed to find the perfect mix but nothing seemed to be working. He would’ve asked Kawanishi, but his roommate was currently doing everything in his power to avoid him. 

He was pretty sure Kawanishi had left in the middle of the night last night and never came back.

But, Shirabu wasn’t concerned with that at the moment. He was concerned with finding the right shirt for his date. Or not-date. (He was going to call it a date in his head though. This is what he had been waiting for since middle school after all).

Shirabu considered calling somebody but his contacts proved baren. He didn’t have many people he considered friends. The one person who was the closest thing to a best friend was ignoring him. It was too shameful to call any of his acquaintances. 

He spent five more minutes in front of the closet before choosing a burgundy button up, tugging on khakis over tight boxer briefs. He wasn’t usually one for cologne, but he gave himself a little spritz of the one Kawanishi had bought him jokingly one year for his birthday. At least it was getting used now.

Admiring himself in the mirror for only a moment longer, he grabbed his keys and headed out. He thought about leaving a note for Kawanishi, but figured it wouldn’t be worth it as he didn’t know when the man would be home. Kawanishi’s belongings were still in his room so Shirabu knew he would at least  _ come back _ .

The train ride to the city was a short one. A shiver caressed Shirabu’s spine as the chill wrapped around him. He quickened his pace towards the bar, both to escape the cold and because of his desire to see Ushijima. It had been months.

The door chimed above Shirabu as he entered the dimly lit bar, but he could only partially hear it over the chatter of patrons crowding the bar. Through the masses he was able to spot Ushijima, hunched over a beer at a table in the corner by himself. As Shirabu grew closer, his nerves tingled and his fingers twitched at his side. He considered turning around and leaving but he met somber olive green eyes and knew there was no backing out now.

“Hello, Ushijima-san.” Shirabu greeted as he approached, shrugging out of his jacket and placing it over the back of the chair.

“Hello.” Ushijima’s voice was gravelly, more so than usual. Shirabu took a good look at him and bit his lip. Ushijima looked… haggard, as if he was completely broken down. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked as if he had lost a ton of muscle. Shirabu knew that the brute strength was still there, but it didn’t look like it. Just what had happened to Ushijima in the past few months? Was this the power of love?

“I’m… gonna go get a drink.”

“Can you please get me another?” Ushijima placed his empty bottle on the table. Shirabu wondered how long Ushijima had been here if he had finished his beer. “I will pay you back.”

Shirabu glanced at the label and nodded. “Don’t worry about it.”

He meandered over to the bar and waited for their beers before bringing them back. He had tried to formulate a plan as to what to say to Ushijima, but he had nothing. What was he supposed to say after seeing him like this? Shirabu hadn’t expected this level of mourning. Maybe Kawanishi was right. This was a bad idea.

“Thank you.” Ushijima took it and lifted it to his lips. Shirabu nodded and sat across from him, studying him with a steady gaze. Was this still the man he had loved since middle school? Ushijima looked so different now, his expression more solemn. 

“So…” Shirabu sucked in a breath. He would have to make some awkward small talk. “Is this the first time you’ve been out since….?” He couldn’t bring himself to say Tendou’s name. He wasn’t sure what Ushijima would do.

“Yes.” Ushijima responded simply. “I wasn’t one for going out, but Tendou used to force more to go…” His voice trailed off and he gazed out the window, eyes glazed over. Shirabu wondered if he was going to cry. It would be the first time he would see his former captain cry; Ushijima hadn’t even shed a tear after they lost to Karasuno. Perhaps that was just the shock of the loss, but Shirabu was certain that Ushijima spent some time the past few months crying. 

“Are you still playing volleyball?” Shirabu blurted, desperate to change the topic. Anything to avoid the forlorn expression on Ushijima’s face. It’s something he didn’t want to see for the rest of the night but it would be hard to change. Ushijima rarely ever changed his expressions in the past. The most expressive Shirabu had ever seen him had been in the Karasuno match. He was alive then. Shirabu hoped he still had that fire.

“Ah, sparingly. I was… benched.” 

Shirabu choked on his beer. Benched? Ushijima? The ace of Japan? That must have been…. 

“Why?”

“The coach does not believe I have been in the correct headspace. I agreed. So I am not playing for the time being.”

Shirabu had no idea. Were there no safe subjects for him to talk about? Everything seemed sore. 

“I, uh, haven’t really played since high school either. I was cut from the university team so I never played much after…”

“That is a shame.” Ushijima stated. “I enjoyed our team back then.”

“You did?” Shirabu had never been sure. Ushijima wasn’t exactly easy to read. 

Ushijima nodded. “It was… fun.”

Shirabu’s heart stuttered in its race. Ushijima’s words had lifted him up just a tiny bit. He honestly didn’t think Ushijima enjoyed being on a team with him considering how hung up he always was on Oikawa. But things worked out for the best as Ushijima was on a team with Oikawa now.

If only Tendou was there, Ushijima’s life would be perfect.

Shirabu rolled his shoulders and took another swig of his beer, looking around at the people of the bar. There were people playing pool, laughing and shoving each other. People stumbling around, weaving through tables looking for somebody to pick up and take home. People at the bar cheering over whatever sport was being played on the TV situated around the bar. This wasn’t Shirabu’s usual scene but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He had Ushijima’s company after all.

The two continued to engage in awkward small for a good chunk of the night. Ushijima continued to down beers at an alarmingly fast rate but Shirabu wasn’t worried. In fact, he had been the one to purchase most of the beers for him, Ushijima promising that he would pay him back another time. Ushijima would be paying him back, just not how he thought he would be.

Drunk Ushijima was an experience Shirabu wasn’t prepared for.

He wasn’t anymore expressive than Sober Ushijima, but he was a lot more talkative. He pretty much unloaded every single feeling he had had over the past six months onto Shirabu.

“It sucks.” Ushijima slurred. Shirabu lost count of how many beers they had, the table was so crowded. “I miss him so much.”

“I know.” Shirabu said boredly, head resting in his hand as he looked off towards the game. He didn’t even particularly care about whatever sport was being played, it was just that Ushijima had expressed this sentiment about six or so times before. Shirabu was tired of hearing it.

“I was going to propose. He probably would have laughed. But he would have said yes.” Ushijima exhaled through his nose in his own attempt to laugh. Shirabu would have thought it was pleasant if Ushijima wasn’t blubbering.

“I would have said yes too…” Shirabu mumbled into his beer. 

“I miss him. Nothing feels the same without him.” 

Shirabu gripped the bottle tight in his hand and turned towards Ushijima, who was staring at the table glumly. “Ushijima-san.”

Ushijima lifted his eyes to stare at the younger man. Shirabu slowly stood and leaned forward, lips brushing the other’s earlobe. “You can pretend I’m Tendou-san, if you’d like.”

He pulled back and was met with piercing green eyes, staring at him blankly. Wiped away was any sadness, replaced by a clouding lust. Pupils blew wide and Ushijima stood abruptly from the table, reaching across and grabbing a bony wrist. He dragged Shirabu up and out of the chair, then all the way to the door. Shirabu barely had any time to grab his jacket and shrug it up and over his shoulder. He hadn’t expected Ushijima to physically drag him out of the bar but he didn’t mind; he liked being manhandled some of the time.

If it was by Ushijima, then he liked being manhandled all the time.

Ushijima didn’t live far from the bar and it excited Shirabu to know that Ushijima was going to fuck him on the same bed he had shared with Tendou in the time they were together. This was going to be Shirabu’s space, if only for the night.

Ushijima shoved him onto the bed and Shirabu had to bite his tongue to stop from moaning. They were still clothed, hadn’t even touched each other yet, but the raw power Ushijima was exuding was enough for Shirabu to get off. He had wanted this since he was a little twink in middle school.

The first touch was electrifying. It was to his thigh and that big meaty hand grabbed it and spread his legs open wide to fit between them. Shirabu tilted his head back a little as their bodies slid together and Ushijima pressed all his weight onto him.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Ushijima snarled. 

“Fuck me, I want it.” Shirabu breathed as his fingers fisted in those olive green locks and brought their mouths together. Well, their tongue. It was messy. Shirabu was even a little disturbed from the noise coming from their lips but he couldn’t care because he didn’t want Ushijima to stop. He took his tongue into his mouth as Ushijima practically fucked him with it. Shirabu was moaning like never before.

Somehow along the way their pants and shirts had come off, leaving them in their boxers and briefs. Ushijima’s boxers could barely contain him and Shirabu was reminded of all the times he’d ogled his captain in the locker room. Now he was going to see it  _ in person, for real _ . It was already bulging. Shirabu felt a thrill travel up his spine when it pressed onto his thigh when Ushijima once again lowered himself over him to tongue fuck him.

Shirabu felt like he was drowning in saliva by the time Ushijima pulled away to grab a condom and lube. Even in his drunken haze he could still remember to be safe, having always used a condom when fucking Tendou. Shirabu looked at him with clouded eyes and yelped as Ushijima flipped him over and raised his hips so he was bent over on his knees. His boxers were yanked off and tossed somewhere; Shirabu didn’t have the time to care because there was a stinging slap to his ass cheek that had him seeing stars already.

“Fuck!” Shirabu shouted and gripped the pillow so conveniently under his head.

“Smaller than I remember...” Ushijima mumbled to himself.

_ He really thinks I’m Tendou-san, huh, _ Shirabu thought bitterly but it was fine because  _ he  _ was the one getting Ushijima’s dick. He wiggled his hips enticingly and arched his back, looking over his shoulder at him. “You gonna prep me... Wakatoshi?” He purred Ushijima’s name and it rolled off his tongue so beautifully. It felt so right. He could get used to this.

“Yes,” Ushijima’s voice had grown dark and Shirabu bit his lip, lowering his face to the comfort of the pillow. There was a click of the lube from behind and then the cool drizzle of thick liquid on his asshole. Shirabu shivered from the chill and moaned softly as thick fingers massaged it into his hole, Ushijima wasting no time in sinking a nicely lubed finger into him. Nothing could’ve prepared Shirabu from how thick Ushijima’s finger was, thicker than his own. Shirabu didn’t even want to think about his dick, though that was the subject of most of his fantasies.

Ushijima started slow but definitely didn’t remain that way. The alcohol had lowered his carefulness, but Shirabu didn’t mind. He wanted to be used and he wanted to be abused. He wanted to feel it in the morning. Ushijima seemed keen on making him feel  _ something _ as he pounded one, then two fingers in and out of his asshole.

“Ah, ah, Ushijima- _ san! _ ” Shirabu’s voice pitched higher as Ushijima blasted him with his fingers, adding more lube to make him more wet.

“Such a slut for me, Satori. So nice and open for me,” Ushijima growled. Shirabu felt his stomach turn at the mention of Tendou’s name but it was fine, he was fine, Ushijima was fucking  _ him  _ now. 

“S-So good for you,” Shirabu whimpered and turned his head against the pillow to look back at Ushijima. The bigger man was fingering him while also pumping his own cock. It was incredibly erotic and Shirabu twitched away from him, worried he would come. “Wakatoshi, please.”

“Are you ready for me?” Ushijima questioned. Shirabu nodded, desperate. He wanted to feel this cock inside of him, the cock he had been fantasizing about since he knew of Ushijima and since he learned to masturbate. It had been a long time coming.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Shirabu babbled after he gave Ushijima the affirmative nod. He watched over his shoulder as the condom was opened and slid onto that thick, delicious cock and lube was slathered over the pulsating appendage. Shirabu thought he was going to pass out from anticipation as the tip of Ushijima’s cock pressed to his entrance. 

Ushijima barely gave any warning other than a grunt as he slowly began to sink into Shirabu’s tight ass. Shirabu clawed at the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to take deep breaths. Ushijima was... huge. He didn’t want to sound like some bad porno novel, but he truly felt like he was being split in half. Ushijima was going to  _ ruin him _ .

Shirabu’s cock jumped at the thought. 

Ushijima bottomed out and a pool of drool had accumulated beneath Shirabu’s parted lips. He was losing it a little bit. Ushijma was rocking his world and Shirabu wanted to pask in the feeling of being filled forever. What did Tendou do to deserve this amazing dick? Nothing. Shirabu deserved it all. This was  _ his  _ dick now.

Large fingers gripped his hips and Shirabu braced himself. He knew the first thrust was coming, but he wasn’t truly prepared to feel the thickness inside of him slowly pull out, ass clenching, and then so suddenly thrust back in. It hurt a little, but the pain was good. Shirabu liked it. He could take it.

Ushijima never let up on the roughness of his thrusts as he began a rhythm. Shirabu was only mildly concerned about what the neighbors might think was going on in the room, as he was letting out screams of bloody murder every time Ushijima slammed back in.

“So loud, Satori,” Ushijma groaned through clenched teeth. 

Shirabu had no doubt that Tendou had been loud during sex, but he could be  _ louder _ . Just like in high school Shirabu wanted to be the best setter, yet the most inconspicuous one, Shirabu was going to secretly be the better man in bed. He wanted Ushijima to think about this for a long, long time. Every time Ushijima were to recall his sex with Tendou, he would think of this. Shirabu wanted to condition him. He could feel the dark thoughts taking over his mind, wanting Ushijima to be  _ his  _ the way he deserved and wanted.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Shirabu screamed louder every time Ushijima plowed into him. He wanted the world to know who Ushijima belonged to that night. There would be no doubts by the morning.

More drool dripped down Shirabu’s chin as his ass was pounded. There was a sick wet sound every time skin hit skin on every thrust. The wet schlucking sound that Ushijima’s dick made each time he entered Shirabu was disgusting, but it made Shirabu’s cock twitched. He’d already came once, his cum hitting the sheets beneath him but he could barely breathe out to Ushijima that he’d come. Not that he wanted Ushijima to stop. 

There was pain shooting up his backside and Shirabu was sure he wasn’t going to be able to walk in the morning, but Ushijima was  _ grunting  _ like a wild animal and it was like music to his ears. It sounded almost like the grunt he let out when spiking a volleyball particularly hard, but this was more guttural, more sexy. Shirabu whined and started fucking himself back on Ushijima’s cock.

“You like that Satori?” Ushijima panted. He slapped Shirabu’s ass and Shirabu blacked out for a moment. When he came to Ushijima’s groans were growing louder and louder, signaling that he was going to come. 

“I want it,” Shirabu moaned and reached back to grip Ushijima’s wrist with a sweaty palm. “Want you to cum, Wakatoshi. Please, give me your cum.”

Shirabu watched as Ushijima’s gaze grew even darker and he slammed into him only one more time before emptying into the condom. Shirabu could feel the heat through the latex and he reached down to get himself off one more time, eyes rolling back from the way Ushijima reached around to press on his stomach. He was so deep inside of him, it was  _ glorious _ .

Shirabu didn’t feel much after that; he wasn’t aware of his surroundings. He was completely focused on the feel of Ushijima’s cock pulling out of him and then his own emptiness, clenching his thighs together. He wished Ushijima had left him leaking, wished he hadn’t used a condom but Shirabu knew that even wasted Ushijima would want to be safe. 

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he was aware of the bed dipping with joined weight. That was his last thought, how content he felt with the added heat of Ushijima behind him. He breathed Ushijima’s scent in, no longer a lingering of Tendou in the place. It was all Ushijima wrapped around him and now... his own scent imbedded into the sheets where Tendou once used to sleep.

Shirabu slept like a baby. Was it because of the good fucking Ushijima had given him before they fell asleep? Or was it because he was simply wrapped up in Ushijima’s world? Maybe it was a mixture of both, but the peace didn’t last. It was too good to be true. 

Morning came and it brought everything Shirabu had feared. He was rudely awakened by Ushijima shaking him violently. With a groan, Shirabu stretched his arms above his head casually and looked over at him tiredly, not yet registering the anger in Ushijima’s gaze.

“Time’s it?” Shirabu mumbled sleepily, rubbing at his eye.

“Get up,” Ushijima boomed, a shot through the silence of the room. It was enough to rock Shirabu to the core. Ushijima was as far as possible from Shirabu as he could be, clad in loose sweats that drooped off his hips. Shirabu slowly sat up.

“Um,” he pulled the sheets to him self-consciously, noting his own nakedness under the sheets. His heart hammered in his chest and it was so loud to his own ears that Shirabu could’ve sworn Ushijima could hear it from across the mattress.

Ushijima stared at him, lost, betrayed, broken. Shirabu felt only a sliver of guilt. He had gotten what he wanted... last night. He’d pictured a happier morning. Maybe they would have coffee together, or cuddle, and all thoughts of the other party would be gone from Ushijima’s mind. 

“What did you do?” Ushijima whispered. It was so much more raw than his voice had been at the bar, or even during sex. Shirabu looked away. He knew he fucked up. “Why?”

“I...” Shirabu didn’t know how to explain himself.  _ I’ve loved you since I saw you play volleyball in middle school, I wanted to be with you yet you chose  _ **_him_ ** _ over  _ **_me_ ** .

Ushijima let out a heavy sigh. It made Shirabu flinch. 

“I did not want this.” Ushijima said soon after and it stung a lot more than if Shirabu hadn’t heard it at all. “Get out of my home.”

Shirabu’s head snapped up to stare at him. “Wakato-”

“ _ You do not get to call me that. _ ” Ushijima cut him off and Shirabu bristled. It hurt. It hurt so much. He didn’t want it to be like this. “Get out of my home. Do not contact me again.” Ushijima left the room and Shirabu remained for a moment, staring at the sheets that Ushijma had fucked him into the night prior. The best night of his life, right?

He got dressed, numb. His ass is on fire from the fuck and he stumbled about trying to get his pants on. It hurt. His ass and the numbness in his chest.

Once he was fully dressed he went to get his shoes on, glancing into the kitchen where Ushijima was standing, gripping the counter. He seemed deep in thought and it made Shirabu bite his lip. 

“I’m sorry,” he tried one more time. It came out flat, with no emotion. Did he mean it? Shirabu wasn’t even sure.

“Go.” Broken. Crumbling. 

Shirabu turned away and put his shoes on as best he could. It hurt to lift his legs. He made his way home slowly, trying not to think about how much he hurt. The train made it difficult, as people pressed into him and Shirabu thought he was suffocating. His own thoughts pressed down onto him as well. 

Gasping for breath, he exited the train. He drunkenly made his way home; if there had been a policeman patrolling his street, Shirabu was sure he would’ve been questioned. He was clearly not okay. He swallowed around the bile stuck in his throat as he shakily unlocked the door to his apartment. He didn’t even think of Kawanishi being home as he opened the door and sank to the ground, closing it behind him. He leaned against the cool wood. 

At some point, Shirabu kicked off his shoes. He curled up, knees to his chest and fingers in his hair, gripping at toasted blonde locks. Tears burned his throat and he tried so desperately not to cry but he couldn’t hold it in any longer. With a loud sob he burst into tears, biting his lips and inhaling shakily. 

He didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approaching. He could barely see through his tears as he peered over his knees at socked feet stopping in front him.

“Welcome home,” Kawanishi said bitterly. Shirabu glanced up at him, bangs obscuring his view. Kawanishi had an eyebrow raised, but there was no sympathy in his gaze. Shirabu flinched away from the coldness, reminded of Ushijima. “Looks like you had a good night. Why you crying?”

“N-Nothing,” Shirabu sniffed wetly. Gross. He gagged a little at the snot he swallowed. 

Kawanishi crossed his arms over his chest. He knew what was up, it wasn’t a secret. Shirabu  _ smelled  _ like Ushijima. “I told you to leave him alone. Now what?”

Shirabu curled in on himself a little more. Kawanishi looked down at him. Silence ensued. Shirabu wanted to be left alone but here Kawanishi was, rubbing his own mistake in his face. He should’ve listened to him. He shouldn’t have been so selfish. He should’ve left Ushijima alone and continued to push down the burning desire in his gut.

There were no words left to be spoken. Kawanishi’s further silence spoke volumes. Shirabu’s nails bit into his palm as he sobbed. He’d messed up, and now he ruined everything. Karma had truly gotten the best of him. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/novocaine_sea/)


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